Epiphany
by incoherenThought
Summary: A Scotty and Lilly story.
1. Without a Word

**Epiphany**  
by: incoherenThought

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on the CBS series Cold Case.  
**Note:** I really don't know. I wanted to write something new and short. I didn't know what and this is what came out. It takes place sometime after the Scotty and Lilly fight scene in "Wishing". I'm afraid to ask but... could you let me know what you think? Please?  
**Note1/2:** Wanna hear something funny? This was to be a one shot that I planned on posting on Saturday(4/10/10). About a day after writing it... it now has four more chapters. ;) They are all rated higher than T, if you get my meaning, but if you want to read them... let me know.

**Chapter 1:** Without a Word

* * *

He had made her cry. Well, he thought, she'd never actually cried. The tears hadn't actually fallen. But they had been there. Shining in her eyes as a harsh reminder of the fool he had been. And of the friend he had just lost.

It hadn't been worth it. Nothing could have made it worth it. And he hadn't been prepared for it. Because Lilly Rush did not cry. She was too strong. Nothing could move her. Nothing could make her cry. But he had made her cry.

And he didn't know why. They were just partners. Barely friends. She told him nothing and he told her the same in return. They talked of work. They made a good team. But how many things had remained unspoken between them?

Could you fall in love, he wondered, without so much as a word? Had the words been spoken? Had he missed them along the way? He was certain he'd been listening. But it wasn't the type of thing you wanted to hear if you weren't prepared.

And he hadn't been prepared. Because he hadn't expected he, alone, could make her cry.

"I'm leaving now," a voice spoke from far away. Scotty Valens blinked and looked away from the window. It hadn't been far away. She was standing right beside him. A suitcase at her feet.

"Okay," he said. He had told her she didn't have to leave that night. But it was better that she was. She began to walk away, stopped after a few steps, and turned back to face him.

"You know, it's always been her," she spoke softly and Scotty didn't understand. He looked at her questioningly but she couldn't read him. Not like her sister could.

"What?" he asked aloud and looked back out the window. He didn't really care. A few snowflakes fell from the sky.

"Lilly," Christina continued, "it's always been her. Her fiancee. Even guys I've dated. They always wanted her. But she shuts herself off and I open myself up. But it's still always her. Even for you."

Could you fall in love, he wondered, without so much as a word.

* * *

He reached up and rapped lightly on her door. Perhaps too lightly. A part of him didn't want her to answer. A part of him didn't know what he would do if she didn't. The doorknob turned. The door pulled in. And there she was. Surprised to see him.

She was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved, tie-died, shirt. Her hair hung loosely about her shoulders. He had never seen her like this before. And it was like seeing her for the first time. A part of her was exposed like this. A part of her she usually kept hidden.

She didn't invite him in. He decided he didn't need an invitation. He pushed passed her and into a living room he'd never been in. He glanced around. It wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected informal and cold. It was warm and inviting.

"Why are you here?" she demanded, still standing in an opened doorway. He turned around and stood his ground. She sighed and shut the door. "Why are you here?" she repeated and he realized he didn't know.

"I broke it off with Christ," he blurted out.

"I don't care," she said, throwing her hands up in the air. She walked around her couch and sat down. A cat came out of hiding and stared up at him. It had only one eye and for a moment Scotty was distracted. Then he heard a sniffle. And he knew that she did care.

He walked around the couch and sat down on the coffee table in front of her. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to beg her forgiveness. But he couldn't help the annoying voice inside his head that said he'd done nothing wrong.

"Look, Lil," he began but was instantly irritated. She was staring down at her hands. She wouldn't even meet his eyes. "I just don't get it. Why the hell do you even care?"

She looked up at him then. Her eyes were blazing. But there was a pain in them too. A deep hurt. He had put it there. And he hated himself for it. He swallowed hard. They were just partners. Barely friends. A tear escaped down her cheek and his heart broke.

Could you fall in love, he wondered, without so much as a word.

She wiped away the tear angrily. And he knew. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to hate him. But she was losing the battle. Another cat jumped up on the couch. This one was white and was missing a leg. He stared at it in wonderment.

"You could never get it," she finally spoke and he looked back at her. Her blue eyes were on his. A shiver ran down him at the accusations he saw there. "She took the most hurtful and humiliating moment of my life and she told it to you. And you threw it in my face like it meant nothing."

It was a moment he wished he could take back. She'd just started talking. He realized what she was talking about and told her to stop. But she hadn't. She'd told him about the time she'd slept with her sister's fiance. She said she didn't understand why Lilly couldn't let it go.

Lilly's eye were brimming with unshed tears. He knew she was a master at hiding her tears. At hiding herself. Her sister must know these things too. But she'd taken away the one person Lilly had let in. She'd broken her sister's heart. And she'd done it on purpose.

"You're him," she whispered so softly he had almost not heard her. He blinked and just stared at her. The white cat stared at him accusingly. He knew what she was saying. She'd let him in too. She stood up and walked over to the window. And now he was out.

Had the words been spoken? Had he missed them along the way? He was certain he'd been listening.

He crossed the room and stood beside her. A cat rubbed against his leg. He looked down at the one eyed creature. The other remained seated at the couch. Observing him. He realized they were so much like her. Broken, not quite whole, but pleading to be loved.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and he looked over at her. Her words were chocked with tears. "I'm sorry about what I said. About Elisa. I'm sorry." He shook his head. He didn't care. He realized she wasn't looking at him. He reached out to her. Then dropped his hand.

They were just partners. Barely friends. Could you fall in love, he wondered, without so much as a word. Suddenly anger surged inside him. It wasn't for her. It wasn't for Christina. It was. It just was. He turned her to face him. She looked at him with question.

His lips were on hers and, he knew, you could fall in love without so much as a word.

* * *

(Don't look at me like that... I don't know either)


	2. Perfect Storm

**Epiphany**  
by: incoherenThought

**!Warning!:** This chapter is **M** rated. Don't read if you are not **m**ature.  
**Note:** I had never written a story of this rating before this one. As such, I'm a little nervous about posting it. I could really use feedback on this and this isn't just me begging for reviews. Well, maybe it is a little... ;) But, if you could let me know what you think, because your feedback really will go a long ways to determining rather or not I bother posting the remaining chapters. Thank you!

**Chapter 2:** Perfect Storm

* * *

Lilly trembled beneath him. A soft moan fell from her lips. It sounded like his name. He pulled out of her and then slid back in. He could feel his own release starting. But he didn't want this to end. He wanted to remain a part of her. And her a part of him.

He pulled out again. And slammed back into her. She moaned his name again. She arched her back. His continued movements heightening the final waves of her own pleasure. He buried his face at the side of her neck. And squeezed his eyes shut.

He wanted this to last. Forever. But he knew it was ending soon. He couldn't hold off much longer. He kept moving within her. In and out. He breathed in her scent. She smelled of her namesake. A lily. A new surge of pleasure exploded through him. He groaned her name.

She turned her face towards him. Their lips found each other. They devoured each other. He buried himself deep inside her. Release flooded him. His seed spilled into her. Claiming her as his own. He moaned her name one final time and collapsed on top of her.

He was kissing her neck then. Her collar bone. Still trying to taste all of her. A part of him hoped she was on the pill. Another part didn't give a crap. His breathing slowed. His heartbeat steadied. He rested his head beside hers. Not willing to separate from her just yet.

He was trying to remember how they'd gotten from her window to her bed. He didn't know. Didn't care. He was in love with her. It was a wonderful feeling. He wished he had realized it sooner. Because love had never felt this good. This real.

He felt her body start to shake. He thought she was crying. She was laughing. Lightly at first. Then harder. His lifted himself up on both arms and looked at her confused. She tried to push him off her. He wouldn't budge.

"What's so funny?" he questioned. He was still trying to regain his full breath. She was looking at him like the answer were obvious. He felt like he was missing something.

"This," she gestured down at their connected bodies, "is all very funny." She tried again to push him off her. But she was laughing too hard. "Get off of me."

He obeyed. Sliding off and out of her. He suddenly felt less whole. Like his world were slightly more empty. He wanted to be a part of her again. He reached for her. But she was sitting up. Standing up. She walked to a dresser and pulled on a t-shirt. He pulled on his boxers.

"Lilly," he stepped towards her. She sat down at the edge of her bed. Her laughter was drying up. A tear ran down her cheek. She wiped it away. He crouched down in front of her.

"This is ridiculous," she said behind one final, humorless, laugh. "I mean, weren't you just screwing my sister last night?"

This morning, actually. The thought was unbidden. He pushed it away. Was this ridiculous? Yes, he supposed it was. But it felt right. He pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She was so beautiful. He wanted to lay her back down. He wanted to make love to her again.

"You should go," she whispered. But he didn't move. Neither did she. She pulled her legs beneath her and sat, cross-legged, on the bed. He stood up and sat down beside her. Both waited for the other to speak.

"I'm not going anywhere, Lil," he finally spoke. "If I left with things like this... we'd break."

"We've already broke, Scotty," her voice was sad. Too sad, he thought, for someone who had, only moments ago, moaned his name in the final throws of ecstasy. He wanted to bring her back to that moment. He wanted to be a part of her again. And her a part of him.

He shook his head. He swallowed hard. He breathed in deeply. He couldn't forget. He couldn't shake the image of her trembling beneath him. He wanted more of her. He wanted all of her. Again and then once more. He was in love with her. She was his drug.

"What we just did," he finally began again. "You gotta know that it was more special. More amazing than... You gotta know it meant more..." He sighed. How the hell to explain this? "She was just the lightning. You are the entire damn storm."

She looked over at him. A small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her lips. A new spark ignited inside him. He leaned in and brushed his lips to hers. Gently at first. She didn't pull away. Then more hungrily. Devouring her. Marking her as his.

Her hands tangled in his hair. He pushed her back on the bed. She slowly moved upwards. He followed on top of her. Their lips never parting. He removed her shirt. Her head fell to the pillows. He pushed his body to hers. Hardening, all over again, at the need that still claimed him.

She moaned beneath him. Her hands ran down his back. To his boxers. She pushed them off. He pushed them aside. He found she hadn't replaced her own underwear. A finger slipped inside her. Then another. She gasped as their lips finally parted.

"Scotty," it was a request. She was trying to get his attention. To get him to stop. To listen. But her body was disobeying. Her body was moving against his hand. He smiled and trailed small kisses along her jaw. He didn't want to stop. He wanted all of her. Again.

He fell between her legs. She started to push him away. He knew her weakness. She moaned as his thumb flicked over her most sensitive of spots. She was losing strength. She stopped trying to push him away. He removed his hand and positioned himself above her.

She was more than ready for him. He knew this much. He wondered, again, if she were on the pill. He pushed inside her. He didn't care. They gasped in unison as their bodies became one. Once more. He pulled out. Nearly all the way. Then slid back in. Slowly. Very slowly.

This time it would last. Forever. His mouth reached for her breast. He buried himself inside her. He sucked at her nipple. She cried out her pleasure. He stayed buried inside her. Unmoving. He loved this feeling. They were one and he was in total ecstasy.

"Scotty," again it was an attempt to get his attention. But she already had his full attention. He pulled out of her. So slowly. "What are we doing here?" she barely got the words out before he was pushing back in. And she was moaning his name.

He moved his attention to her other breast. He didn't care what they were doing. What it meant. It felt so right. It felt so good. He wanted to be here. Forever. In this moment. With her. Her hands ran down his back. He buried himself inside her and stopped.

He pulled himself up and looked down at her. His hardness throbbing inside her. She could barely open her eyes. She moved her hips up. But he pushed her back down. Into the bed. She moaned her frustration. She no longer wanted to talk. But he did.

"I love you," he found himself whispering down to her. Her eyes were right on his. She shifted her weight beneath him. He gasped at the feel. Closed his eyes. Swallowed hard. Then looked back down at her.

A tear slipped from her eye. She reached up to wipe it away. He grabbed her wrist first. Another tear fell. He thought they were beautiful. They were her. A part of her she'd never before let him glimpse. But now he could see it. Now he could see all of her.

She shook her head sadly. "No, you don't," she whispered. He smiled and pulled his length out of her. Leaving only a small part of himself still inside her. Her eyes flickered closed. He waited till they opened again. Till she was looking at him again.

"Yes, I do," he whispered and pushed back into her. Her hips moved to meet his halfway. He pulled back out. Then pushed back in. And for a moment he couldn't think anymore. He could only feel as their bodies played the dance of love.

"Why?" she asked. He knew what she was asking. Her voice was filled with pain. And he ached for her. For all the hurt he had caused her.

"Sometimes," he began, breathing heavy, "we hurt the ones we love." He looked down at her. Her tears were dried up now. But she was still fully exposed to him. He brushed away a strand of blond hair. She was so beautiful.

"Don't," she said and he heard the pleading in her words, "do that again. Don't hurt me again."

He placed his lips to hers. "Never," he whispered against them. And he moved inside her. Their breathing came in gasps. He moved in and out. She followed his every motion. Matching him perfectly. They fit together flawlessly. Two becoming one. As they should always have been.

She called out his name. She tightened around him. Her head fell back. Her eyes closed. She fell into bliss. He followed right behind her. Spilling his seed inside her for the second time that night. And she was his. Wholly. Completely. She was his. And he was hers.

He collapsed on top of her but had to roll off. He no longer had the strength to hold himself up. And he didn't want to hurt her. She comfortably snuggled into his side. He pulled her close. Their breathing calmed. Their hearts settled.

He smiled. Knowing they'd do it all over again soon. Then, a thought occurred to him. Not for the first time that night.

"Lilly?" he whispered.

She murmured a sleepy, "what?"

"You're on the pill, right?" He heard her giggled and knew everything was all right.

"Yes, Scotty."

He closed his eyes. He was generally more careful than that. Always more careful than that. But tonight. With her. He just hadn't cared.

"Scotty?" she whispered.

"Yeah?" He could feel sleep pulling him in. It was late. And they'd both just had an exhausting night.

"I love you, too."

* * *

**EndNote:** There you have it. I tried to make it tasteful and not just... well, you know. Please do leave a comment before you go! Please! Pretty please! Am I begging?


	3. The Runaround

**Epiphany**  
by: incoherenThought

**!Warning!:** This chapter is **M** rated. Don't read if you are not **m**ature.  
**Note:** This is a fairly short chapter. But, since this whole story is just pointless nothing. Oh, well.

**Chapter 3:** The Runaround

* * *

Morning light seeped in through thin curtains. Scotty opened his eyes to the feel of something soft against his leg. A cat. She walked passed his arm. Orange fur crossed his face. She settled down on the empty pillow beside him. Curling herself up. She laid there content and happy.

Scotty blinked. And sat up. Empty pillow. Where was Lilly? At the end of the bed was the white cat. Like a gargoyle. It sat there. It stared at him. Accusingly. He was certain this animal hated him. He stood up and headed into the bathroom.

The shower was running. He smiled. He pulled aside the curtain. Her back was to him. She was rinsing off. Soap and water ran down her body. Over her curves. He stepped into the shower. She hadn't noticed him. He stepped up behind her. Skin almost touching skin. But not quite.

She stiffened at his presence. Then, relaxed. She started to turn around. He put his hands on her shoulders to prevent her from doing so. He pushed her hair away from her left shoulder. He leaned in and began to trail kisses along her neck. Over her shoulders. To where her arm started.

"Scotty." He closed his eyes against that one word. His name. Her voice was telling him something. Something had changed over night. She was backing out. Walking away from all that had changed between them.

He turned her around and pushed her back against the wall. His mouth devouring hers before she could speak again. She kissed him back. Hungrily. Longingly. From somewhere inside himself he heard a small chuckle. She was his. He wouldn't let her run away.

His hand moved over her chest. Receiving gasps from her as it settled at one breast. He leaned down and kissed the other. Her hands were in his hair then. Pulling him closer to her. She may have thought she wanted out. But he'd prove otherwise.

He was back at her lips. One hand trailed down her stomach. Along the inside of her thigh. She moaned against his lips. Asking him. Begging him. He knew what she wanted. What she craved. A finger slipped inside her and she cried out a soft moan.

He moved the finger within her. Adding another. Then another. Her lips left his in a gasp. In a search to breath. She was pushing against his hand. Demanding more. He smiled. He wasn't sure he wanted to give her more.

She reached out and grasped his own want. It was his turn to moan. Her hand ran up and down the smooth surface of his shaft. He rested his forehead against the wall beside her. Pumping his hand in and out of her. While she pumped her hand up and down on him.

He had to pull her hand away. What she was doing to him was crazy. He'd never felt like this with anyone else. He pulled his fingers out. She whimpered in disappointment. He lifted her on the wall. Her legs easily wrapping around him.

He slid into her in one, quick, motion. Burying himself deep. She cried out his name. He pumped in and out of her hard. Fast. This was lust. This was need. He wouldn't go slow. Not this time. Her head leaned back against the wall. He pressed his forehead to hers. She cried out her moans with every thrust.

God, he thought, how he loved this woman. She was meeting his every move. Perfectly. And it wasn't long till they both came tumbling over the edge. He thrust into her one final time. Her body already quivering beneath his. And, for a moment, he just held her there.

Their breathing calmed. He let her drop slowly to the shower floor. Her legs were unsteady. He grabbed her before she lost balance. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He sighed. Things were still different. They'd still changed. And she was still running.

He wrapped his arms around her waist. And whispered to her three words he'd shared with her the night before. They could keep her running. Or make her stop. "I love you." He pressed his body to hers. She leaned into him. He waited.

She pulled away. She looked into his eyes. They showed him love. But there was a sadness there too. A regret. His heart sank. He didn't know if he could handle the rejection that was coming. Not now. Not with her. He knew, he could never get over her.

"Scotty..." her words trailed. Her eyes looked away. She couldn't even give him the courtesy of words.

"So, what is this?" he asked. "A friends with benefits thing?" Her eyes snapped back to his. Had he pushed a button?

"No, Scotty. I don't want that." The water poured down on them. He hoped she had a good hot water heater.

"Then what do you want?" he asked softly. He ran a hand along a strand of her hair. He liked her hair. He decided it was nice when pulled down. Though it looked nice pulled up too.

"For starters, you're the one who keeps seducing me." He opened his mouth to argue this. Then shut it. She was right. She was a drug. He couldn't help it.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked softly. He knew the answer he wanted. He knew the answer he'd get. They weren't the same answer.

"I just need some space. Some time. To sort through things." It was the answer he didn't want. But he'd accept it. He had no choice. "I'm done here," she continued. She started to leave the shower. He pulled her back. He kissed her deeply. She didn't resist.

He pulled away. Her eyes were still closed. Slowly, they fluttered open. He didn't think there was a more beautiful blue in the world. She looked in his eyes. Both of them knew. This wasn't over. Because he wouldn't give up. Even if she tried.

"I'll be waiting," he told her softly. "Whenever you've had enough space. I'll be there."


	4. Wednesday

**Epiphany**  
by: incoherenThought

**!Warning!:** This chapter is **M** rated. Don't read if you are not **m**ature.  
**Note:** I've decided I don't like the 5th chapter I have written for this story. Therefor, it will not be posted. I may, or may not, write a new one. I just don't know yet. Sorry! For now, this story is complete... maybe forever.  
**NoteAgain:** It has come to my attention that the writing style I've used for this story is... interesting. You know who you are? ;) I just wanted you to all know that it is all on purpose. You know, the whole short sentences thing. On purpose. All of it. I like it. If you don't, then go away. No! I'm joking! Come back!

**Chapter 4:** Wednesday

* * *

Lilly hated Wednesdays. They sat in the middle of the week. Taunting. Mocking. Reminding her that it wasn't quite Thursday. And that Friday was even further away. She hated Wednesdays. She hated this Wednesday. And she hated this week.

She glanced at the clock. 9:30 AM. The clock was taunting her too. She was certain of it. She felt like she had been at work for hours already. It had only been thirty minutes. She sighed. She hated Wednesday mornings.

A file landed hard on the desk facing hers. She jumped. She looked up. And found her partner's eyes glaring back at her. She looked down. Maybe she could take a sick day. She could be sick. Wednesdays often made her sick.

"Morning," he said. Not pleasantly. She swallowed. She tried to pretend she was concentrating on the file in front of her. She didn't know what the file was.

"Good morning, Scotty," she tried to sound distracted. She didn't think it had worked. His name sounded funny on her lips. This was odd. She'd said it at least a million times since meeting him.

"Interesting case?" he asked. That's when she realized. He had walked up behind her. His breath was hot at her ear. A shiver ran through her. She swallowed hard.

"Sure," she answered. What the hell was this file about?

"Because it's closed." She was certain his breath was now closer to her ear. Maybe she was imagining it. "We closed it last week," his voice was a whisper. Lilly stood up.

"I know," she lied. "I was about to..." She turned around. He was right there. Not an inch from her. She moved to the left. He followed. She moved to the right. So did he. She sighed. She stood still.

"It's just a copy," he informed. "Don't belong with the official files. Needs to be shredded." Lilly was staring at his chest. She didn't want to meet his eyes. She took a step back. He took a step forward.

"I know," she lied again. Her breath seemed to be harder to come by. "I was bringing it there." She chanced a look in his eyes. She regretted it. She looked away. The accusations staring back at her were too much.

"Where?" he asked.

"What?" she asked. He gestured to something behind her. She looked over. Sitting beside her desk was a shredder. She closed her eyes, blocking out the offending object. She hated Wednesdays.

* * *

She had gone down to the cold case room. To hide. And to go over their latest case. A young woman's death from five years ago. Mostly. She had gone down to the cold case room. To hide. Because she hated today. And today seemed like a good day to hide.

She should have known better. She was seated on the floor. A scattering of papers in front of her. Around her. A crunching sound. A foot. She looked up. Scotty. Staring down at her. She swallowed. She smiled. Did he know? She was hiding? Of course he knew.

"Hi, Scotty," she said sweetly. She stood up. Because he was too tall. She should have stayed seated. He advanced on her. She backed up. Her back hit a wall. Had she been that close to the wall? She should have stayed seated.

"Hey, Lil," he said. His lips were on hers. Devouring her. Marking her. Taming her. Oh, god. Her hands were in his hair. She couldn't help it. He was a drug. He pulled away. She almost whimpered.

"You said you needed space," he said hoarsely. His lips were inches from hers. "Is this enough space?"

She swallowed. She could feel his breath on her lips. She thought of that night. The one they had spent together. Of the next morning. She'd turned him away. That had been over a month ago. She'd simply been scared. Scared of him. Of what letting him in meant.

I love you. How many men had she shared those words with? He was losing his patience. She'd noticed this about a week ago. She was scared. He had a power no other man had ever held over her. A simple touch. A kiss. And she would consent to anything.

"Scotty..." His lips were back on hers. He pressed her into the wall. Hard. His hands lifted her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him. His body was holding her there. She felt his hardness at the center of her very being. Oh, god. They couldn't do this. Not here.

His lips were on her neck. Trailing kisses down to her collar bone. He pushed his hardness into her. Relented a little. Then pushed back in. She had to stop this. He had to stop. They were in the basement of Philly PD! Why the hell couldn't she stop this? A simple touch. A kiss.

His hand moved to the front of her shirt. He grabbed her breast. Gently pinched at a nipple. She moaned his name. And he stopped. He backed up. She fell to the ground. To unsteady legs. He looked at her. A wicked grin on his face. She could hardly breath.

"Let me know, Lil. When you've had enough space." He turned around. He left. She hated Wednesdays.

* * *

Had she had enough space? Or was it the drug she craved? She wasn't sure. But she showed up at his door that night. He answered it. Not at all surprised to see her. He stepped aside. She walked inside. And she stood. Awkwardly. In the entry hall that led to his home.

She'd never been here before. From this vantage point, it didn't look like a bachelor pad. He had decorated with taste. Or had someone else done the decorating? She could see a few paintings. They were nice paintings. The place was clean. No scattered clothes. No dirty dishes.

Had he been expecting her? Had he known she'd show up? She felt his arms wrap around her waist. She leaned into him. His lips were on her neck. She closed her eyes. Wednesday nights. Maybe they weren't so bad. Maybe she could handle a Wednesday night.

"The bedroom," he whispered into her neck, "is to the left." She opened her eyes. She glanced in that direction. Sure enough. Through a door. Stood a bed. "The living room is ahead of us. Take your pick."

The bedroom. She knew what would happen there. No doubting that. The living room. She knew what had started there. In her own house. A month ago. His kisses were trailing along her collar bone. Making it hard. Impossible. To decide.

His hands, at her hips, pulled her to him. She felt his want pressing into her backside. His hands roamed up her arms. Down her chest. Over her stomach. Her breathing was coming harder. The bedroom is to the left. She swallowed hard. He was still seducing her.

"How about the kitchen?" she suddenly asked. "I'm kind of hungry."

She turned in his arms. She looked in his eyes. A smile crept over his lips. He was looking at her adoringly. Lovingly. She didn't believe a man had ever looked at her that way before. He moved aside a stray lock of her hair. It fell back down. He didn't notice.

"I think I can take care of that," he said. And his lips were on hers. She couldn't breath. His hands were everywhere. He suddenly had her pinned to the wall. She wasn't sure how that had happened. Her hands found his hair. His back. His chest.

She pulled off his shirt. He was working on the buttons of hers. He pushed off her jacket and blouse at the same time. Then his lips found the soft fabric covering her breast. She gasped. She reached for his buckle. Her hands were shaky. He stepped back. Took her hand in his.

He led her to the bedroom. The decision had been made. Without words. Her head fell back onto the pillows. He looked down at her. Adoringly. Lovingly. And she knew. He really did love her. She ran a finger down the side of his face. He smiled at her.

He kissed her. Gently. Carefully. Something had just changed. There was more love. Less lust. More caution. Less force. He trailed his lips down her chin. Down her neck. To her breasts. He removed her bra without effort. She arched her back into him as he sucked in a nipple.

His hands trailed lower. Playing at the insides of her still clothed thighs. She closed her eyes. Wishing her clothing would all disappear. She reached for him. But he was moving lover. His lips trailed down her stomach. He placed a kiss above her belt buckle.

"Scotty?" He looked up at her. "This isn't just about the sex, is it?" He smiled. He shook his head. Moved back up her body and kissed her hard. She moaned into his lips. With one hand he undid her belt. Then went to work on button and zipper.

"Not a chance," he breathed. "If this were just about the sex. It wouldn't be this good." She smiled, knowing he was right. He was back down her body in seconds. Pulling her slacks down. Over her hips. Off her legs. They ended up somewhere. She didn't know where.

Then his lips were on the thin fabric of her underwear. A few kisses and they, too, were gone. She closed her eyes. She knew what was coming. And then his head was between her legs once more. His tongue darted out. Licking at her. Causing shivers racing up her body.

She called out his name. She clutched at the blanket beneath her. And he was sucking her, extremely sensitive, bud into his mouth. She arched her back. Not about the sex. This was so much more. This was love. It was lust. But it was love. Nothing should feel this good.

Two fingers entered her. Then a third. He moved them inside her. In and out. As he licked at her. Sucked at her. Oh, god. She felt like her entire body would soon explode. How could any one person handle this much pleasure?

She wanted him. Needed him. Inside her. She was moaning. Calling out his name. His fingers. His mouth. Worked more intently. Her breathing came in gasps. She arched her back. Bucked her hips. He sucked in her bud once again. She exploded. Calling out his name.

He rested his head on her stomach. Her breathing calmed. Her heartbeat steadied. She was sure that was one of the most intense orgasms she had ever experienced. She wondered, why had they waited so long to do this? She wanted to do it all over again. She wanted him.

She ran a hand through his hair. He smiled up at her. His eyes were filled with lust. He needed her. She needed him.

"Come here," she whispered. He moved up to her. He kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She pushed him back onto the bed. She undid his belt. The button on his jeans. His zipper was lowered. And his jeans were gone. On the floor somewhere. Forgotten.

All that remained were his boxers. She got rid of them. He moaned softly at the fresh air that ran across him. Or maybe it was her hand moving up his length. She leaned down and kissed his tip. She took it into her mouth. He was large. Bigger than average. He was perfect.

"Lilly," it was a need. She looked up at him with her eyes. Her lips still around him. Moving down. Sucking in. "I need you. Please." His words seemed difficult on his lips. She understood. What he'd just done to her. It had done something to him.

She ran her tongue along his length as she lifted her mouth off him. He moaned at the loss. But he needed something else right now. He needed her. She straddled his hips. His eyes were pleading. Begging. Lust and love. It was all there.

She settled down onto his length. Taking him in. Slowly. His eyes watched hers. His head settled deeper into the pillows behind him. He put his hands on her hips. And he was inside her. All of him. Filling her perfectly. Stretching her inner walls to new heights of pleasure.

He ran a hand down the back of her head. To her neck. He pulled her down to him. He kissed her deeply. She lifted her body up. They both moaned into the kiss. She pushed back down. The kiss ended. She sat back up. And began to move.

For longer than either of them believed it would last. They stayed like that. She'd move down. He'd move up. They matched each other perfectly. Their timing always right. Till he couldn't take it anymore. He flipped them over. Never separating from her.

He pounded inside of her. Hard. Rough. She was going to bruise. She didn't care. She called out his name. Her body shook. And she met ecstasy. Again. He pushed in and out. One more time. He buried his face in her shoulder. He cried out his own release. Spilling his seed into her.

He fell to her side. Laying on his stomach. An arm still draped over her. Breathing hard. She looked over at him. He was looking at her. His eyes were filled with the same satisfaction she felt. Why had she waited a month? Why had she pushed him away?

He ran a hand down her cheek. Over her arm. She shivered. He smiled. He loved her. She loved him. Love had never felt so good.

"Thinking about running yet?" he asked. Part humor. Part serious.

"Get back to me in the morning," she answered. Not serious.

"That's not funny." He was kissing her lips.

"Sorry," she whispered beneath the kiss. He moved his lips to her neck. Her collar bone. Her shoulder. His hand ran down her side. To her hip. Then back up. She laughed. "You're insatiable."

She felt him smile. "I know," he said and she decided that Wednesdays weren't so bad after all.

* * *

(okay, it's your turn to write... push that review button)


End file.
